In which GG states the bleedin' obvious

Now I know this probably isn't news, but this week I've been thinking about how much circumstance dictates what we want to eat. I order my shopping weekly online, as I can't bear the thought of shopping every day when I've been slaving away all day down the PR mines, but this does mean that sometimes I get it very wrong, dinner-wise. I try to think about my work week, whether I'll leave in good time or be wanting a quick meal having stayed late, if I'm likely to be stressed, what the weather is likely to be etc. Add in doing it on a budget, trying to be relatively low-fat, and it does make things complicated. So sometimes, I get it very wrong. A hot weather day, a work crisis which keeps me chained to the keyboard, an impromptu gin and tonic which goes on too long... all mean that plans go awry.
And as much as I try to eat well at lunch, sometimes the lure of a cheese and pickle baguette is just too much to resist (especially when Pret has just opened in the wasteland of Vauxhall and a cheese and tomato pickle on artisan baguette is MY FAVOURITE SANDWICH EVER). This is also true when we're in pitch mode, when the stress is building, deadlines are looming, clients are being juggled, I've been in the office for 8 hours with a few still to go and my stomach is rumbling. I can rip through a 'sharing bag' of peanut m and ms in seconds, followed by some crisps. Sometimes, only a tub of M&S chocolate miniroll bites will do.
Tomorrow is Norway Independence Day. I love Norway, and not just because two of my dearest friends are Norskis. I love the lifestyle, the landscape, the socialism, emphasis on doing things well. Most of all, I loved the baking. My Norwegian friend Ingrid is an incredible baker and has always made, amongst other things, School Buns. In Norway, these are the only buns you can take to school - talk about socialist principles in microcosm (no one has a better or worse bun than anyone else). A standard bun dough is a very lightly spiced and sweet dough, which you can then add raisins to, or make into cinnamon buns, or make into school buns with the addition of a well of custard. When baked, they are encircled with icing and dessicated coconut. After my father died earlier this year I went to Ingrid and Harvey's for a few days of sanctuary, to sit on their veranda on a clear, cold day and look out into the fjord, watching the big boats come past. We also made loads of buns. And today, just a few days after what would have been Dad's birthday and the day before Norway Day, I made a batch of buns to Ingrid's recipe. The taste of them was hugely evocative - instantly reminded me of long walks through the forest, rural Norway, cold fjord water.
When I make GB welsh cakes, they remind him of his late mum and his Welsh aunties - its like going to a 'happy place'. I guess eating anything that you loved as a child does the same thing. So what's the moral of this tale? Listen to your stomach and your mind - and eat to soothe your soul as well as your hunger.
Lots of love
GG